


The Garden of Evan

by Quineviere



Category: Marvel 616, Wolverine and the X-Men (Comics)
Genre: A couple of bricks loose in the fourth wall, An Upbeat Romantic Comedy for all ages (not really), Dildoes as a running joke, Eventual Porn, Flower Language, I REPEAT: EVENTUAL PORN, M/M, Quentin is kind of an environmentalist, Trans Character, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 17:31:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1613402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quineviere/pseuds/Quineviere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day, Evan is exploring the school, and he finds a huge garden, guarded by the least likely person to fucking love nature. You know what this person also loves? Evan, apparently. Romance ensues. Secrets are found out. The bedroom awaits, if they can even make it that far. <br/>Seriously, these are teenage boys. They're horny as FUCK.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Garden of Evan

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the first chapter of The Garden of Evan! This is gonna be multi-chapter, something to keep me from being bored when I inevitably am because my datefriend always goes to sleep really fucking early so I end up with like nobody to talk to for three hours. Hence, this. I hope you enjoy! Comments give a kitten its wings!!

It was a normal day at the Jean Grey School. Which, meant, of course, that everything was very, very far from normal. The Headmaster and Headmistress had vanished in a puff of sulfiric smoke, and some people were complaining about the noise in the library, which was right under Logan's quarters. They said something about muffled German screaming, the sounds of thunder, and the clinking of glass bottles.   
Cessily was playing a game of charades with Roxy, which was a very easy task considering her mutation. Jubilee was feeding Shogo a bottle, and she handed him off to Julian to burp as she was called in by Rachel's telepathic message, something something Madelyn Pryor, something something Moscow.   
Storm flew very angrily from the doors of the headmaster's room, dressed in some weird bastard child of Logan's armour and Kurt's gloves and... triangle thing.   
Idie was telling Broo Bible stories, and Santo and Glob were playing a very rule-bending game of basketball, and Hisako was in the danger room with Megan.   
And what of our protagonist? Well, dear old Evan was walking around the school, trying to get a better feel of where all the weird tunnels led. He went down a crawlspace, into what seemed like a meadow. He hoped nobody was here, he hated to meadow in other people's business.  
But somebody was there. That somebody summoned a psychic AK-47 and stood up from his place laying under a tree, aiming the gun at what was a very terrified Evan.   
Yeah, terrifyingly _aroused!_ Haha, no, kidding, just regular terrified.   
Quentin posed with a grimace on his face. "Don't trample any of the flowers. You're looking at the Jean Grey School's very own nature preserve, and guess who's the park ranger, chucklefuck." A butterfly then landed on Quentin's head, making him much less intimidating, glowy blue gun and all.   
Evan giggled. "I'm sorry, I just. I was looking around the school. I've seen a movie or two, Quentin, I know a place like this has to have secret rooms."   
"Well, you've found this one, now leave before my automatic rifle goes off or I start to _rifle_ through your brain, _au-to-ma-tic-a-lly."_  
Evan and Quentin were perfectly matched in their sense of humour: equally fucking horrible. Especially those goddamn puns. Even Trevor wouldn't stoop so low, and his puns just keep getting cornea.   
What they were not matched in was height. As pubescent Evan drew closer on the specified worn down dirt path, Quentin watched him turn from the size of an especially close ladybug to a munchkin to a damn, when did he get so close? Quentin's eyes were on the same level as Evan's nipples. Or where they would most likely be. Quentin never showered in the communal showers, no matter how much he wanted to find a way to apply Marxism to real life without it failing, there were some things that shouldn't be public. One was being naked and trying to clean oneself, and another was if the carpet matched the drapes, and another was a naked, murderous Catholic girl who has just shed her school uniform and conjured an Icyhot patch with her hands.  
If he had a say in the matter anymore, Quentin would not let that sight be communal.   
He returned to the real world from his train of thought and looked up, waaaaaay up, at Evan. Evan was smiling down at him, that stupid, goofy, earnest smile of his that was also what it would look line if Evan finally snapped and became a creepy psycho.   
At least then Quentin could at least share the unwanted title.   
"Soooooo," Evan began, keeping that slasher smile all the way through his long, inquisitive syllable.   
Quentin pursed his lips and conjured an old-timey revolver, just in case Evan really had gone psycho, it would be easier to shoot him without lugging around a BFG.   
Man, Quentin, that's the first thing you think of?? _God,_ I know I have a penchant for the mentally unstable characters but I thought Quentin wasn't like, Daken-tier crazy. Did you know Daken started a child prostitution ring in Madripoor? Like, Daken. Stop.   
Evan sighed. "These flowers are so pretty. Do you take care of them, or is Krakoa--"   
"Yeah, it's mostly Krakoa. He can weed himself. It rains enough through the skylight, too. Upstate New York, yanno? Whatcha gonna do."   
"Oh yeah, that's something I've been meaning to ask you. Why is there no weather forecaster on the ne--"  
"Storm."   
"Oh."   
"Meteorology has no place on an Earth with Ororo Munroe and Thor Odinson. I mean, it kind of depends on how many stupid decisions Logan's made lately or how bad Loki fucked up."   
"Oh well. Uh. Okay. I just kinda wondered if there were a few flowers you could give up. I'd like to spruce up my room. And also make it smell better." He retracted into his shoulders, his cheeks going a baby blue.   
"Flowers aren't Febreeze, Kid G." Quentin nonetheless started walking down a path and inspecting some blossoms. Evan trailed him eagerly.   
Quentin put his hands on his temples and closed his eyes. Then he rolled his eyes, got up, and started walking toward the opposite side of the garden. He walked past a beehive hanging from a birch tree without a flinch, and Evan kinda, contorted his body like five feet away from the hive as he walked past following Quentin.   
Quentin dropped the revolver and thought up some shears.   
"Can you make anything?"   
To answer his question, Quentin manifested a dildo and threw it at Evan's face.   
"Gah!" went Evan as it hit his face. He took it in his hands. "Quentin, this is a disembodied penis."   
He snipped off a couple of flowers. "Disembodied penis? It's a fucking dildo, you don't have to be gross about it."   
Quentin held the flowers in his hand and tromped over to another edge.   
"Ohhhhhh, so that's what a dildo is."   
Quentin looked up from cutting off a couple of other flowers. "Pray tell, what the hell did you think it was?"   
Evan shrugged. "Like a metal pole you used for welding?"   
Quentin snorted. "Your naivete is hilarious sometimes."   
Quentin stood up, brushed himself off, and handed the flowers to Evan while looking nowhere in particlar. "Okay. Flowers. Now don't bother me. Go open the Chamber of Secrets or something."  
And then, as he started walking away, "Well, unless you find Logan's secret liquor cabinet. Then get me some vodka and come back."   
Evan nodded. "Ooooookay. Thanks." He smelled the flowers and started to walk away.   
Evan first went back to his room, and put the flowers in vase. Well, he didn't have a vase, so he used a pencil case that he eye-blasted the top off of. it didn't stand up on its own, so he put some Play-Doh on the bottom.   
Then he filled the contraption with water and stuck in the flowers. He sat there admiring it for a bit, and then remember that it was Sunday evening and he had some history homework to finish up.   
As he was musing on the ramifications of the Messiah War to the mutant community, a single knock went _tonk_ on his door, and inside came Logan.   
"Evan, there's somebody here to see ya. I wouldn't let him come up here though, can't trust that idiot nearly as far as you can throw him, so you've gotta come downstairs if you wanna see him." Logan looked around the room. "You and Hamill keep this place pretty neat. Ya even got flowers. Those from Sprite?"  
Evan looked down, confused. "No... they're from Quentin."   
" _Quire_ gave you those?" Logan crossed his arms, undoing the bandages on one of them in the process. He grimaced and then raised his thick eyebrows at Evan, pursing his lips.   
"Uh... yeah, why? What's wrong?? Is one of them poisonous??"   
Logan sighed. "Ever heard of flower language?" Evan shook his head. "Well, ya see, back like a century ago there was a meaning attached to every flower. You could write a letter with a bouquet, pretty much. An' honestly, those colours look horrible together, but they mean... somethin'."  
Evan looked at the flowers, and then at Logan. His eyes were wide and doey with curiosity, which made Logan kinda soften up after Evan asked, “What do they mean?”  
Logan sighed and lumbered towards Evan and put a hand on his shoulder. “Well. Hm,” was the only thing to come out of his mouth.   
“Tell me, Professor Logan. The last time I tried to Google something, it was the word “rimjob” and--”   
“Okay. Don’t tell me about that. I’l spill.” Logan looked at the bouquet and put his other hand on his forehead. “I can’t fuckin’ believe Quire. Red tulips in the middle there, that’s usually like ‘trust me’ or something, but I think to fit in with the others, it would be declaration of love.”  
“What.” Evan’s heart starting pumping and some blue rose to his cheeks, and he thought of Quentin. _Did he do this on purpose? Does he mean it?_  
“Exactly. And it gets worse, too. Daffodils have a lot of different meanings but I’m guessing it means something like unrequited love, or possibly something like ‘you’re the only one’ or ‘you make me so happy’ or something like that.” Logan started looking a little blushy, too.   
“What??? Okay, he’s just messing with me. Teasing me. He does that a lot.”   
“I know. Yer taller than him now, you could take him easy. Tell him to knock it off. You can threaten a bit but there’s gotta be no physical contact unless you’re under supervision in the Danger Room.”   
“Uhh, okay. And what about the purple ones?”   
“Stupidity. That’s a bit more like him. Which is worrying, honestly, because then I’m thinkin’ he ain’t bluffing. Which is gonna put you in a very risky position. Idie was good for him, but she walked out for a reason. He’s not really the ideal type of boyfriend, no matter if you’re a gal or a guy.”   
“Wow, Logan. You’re more... accepting of that kind of stuff than I thought.”   
Logan put his other hand on Evan’s other shoulder and looked at him with the face of a confused shrug. “Ya don’t live a hundred-some years sexually active without suckin’ off a couple of...” Logan stopped, and then shook his head. “Speakin’ a’ risky situations, Deadpool’s downstairs waiting for ya.”   
Evan stood up. “Let’s go see him.”   
After about an hour of talking with Wade, laughing all the way through three games of connect four and drinking the giant slushie Wade had brought for him, Evan sort of dawdled in silence, not making much eye contact with his good old Uncle 'Pool, twiddling his fingers.   
“Hey, uh, kid? You doin’ alright? You got all mopey all of a sudden. Like whenever Nate would #@%!$ something up, he’d take me out for Korean and we’d get super sick between the kimchi and that spicy stuff that--”  
Evan cut him off, mashing all his words together. “Couldyougetmeabottleofvodkaitsreallyimportantipromiseiwontdrinkit?”  
“Oh, okay. You don’t mind the flavoured stuff, right? I have some in my car ‘cause I had to bribe Logan with something to come see you and then the liquor store was having a sale so I just-- I’ll be right back.” Deadpool got up and walked off.   
Evan blushed some more. If Quentin wasn’t teasing him, and if he really meant it when he said not to come back unless he had alcohol--well, Evan really wanted to sort this out. When he started dating Jia, she immediately put down an open relationship clause. Evan was kinda, well, he really did like Jia, but he kinda wanted something more stable. More... traditional.   
Wait a second and you think _Quentin_ is going to give you “stable” and “traditional”???? Oh, Evan. The next couple chapters are going to be-- well. I’m not gonna say anything. Why would I? That’s suh-POILERS.   
Wade came back. “So uh, the only bottle of vodka I had in my car was chocolate cake flavoured. That good? By the way, don’t tell anybody I’m giving you this. Wolvie will castrate me. Probably several times.”   
“Yeah, yeah, that’s good. Also, I won’t. I’m pretty sure Shiklah wouldn’t like you as much as a eunuch.”   
Wade snorted. “Kid, do you know how many dildoes we have? ‘Sides, mine grows back.”  
“Oh. Also, no, but I do know what a dildo _is.”_  
Wade looked off into a direction for a moment before starting again, getting up, “Well, speaking of the wife, I’ve got to get home for dinner right now. You wouldn’t believe how delicious vampire livers are with a little bit of rib rub on ‘em. Hug?”   
Evan hugged Wade, and then Wade left.   
And then Evan left too, hiding the bottle in his suit jacket. He had a telepath to find. 

_**Next time:** A confrontation! A slut with a heart of gold! Actually, several sluts! Featuring: A picture of Kid Gladiator’s butt, and BAMFS!! Don’t miss out! _


End file.
